Cerna Dira
by anwelya
Summary: After escaping, Johan has moved to Austria. Surrounding himself with a new army of pawns and serial killers, he meets one whose bloodlust and knack for destruction is not unlike his own. That they might peer into the all-devouring voids of each other's souls, and wallow in the bloodshed. JohanxOC although it's not particularly romantic. Chapter's will have content warnings: rated M
1. Obluda,

Cerna Dira

Chapter One: Obluda

(AN: This is my first Monster fan fiction, please review, it will help keep the story going, and probably get you longer, more frequent chapters as well.)

Vienna was beautiful in the spring. Or at least, that is what many of the ants were saying. The swarms hustled about as Johan scanned the streets, looking for dead eyes, blank minds, and empty souls. This was a new country, and since his disappearance from the hospital Johan had yet to gather any new pawns. Not that it would be a difficult feat, not at all. In fact, the waiter at the cafe where Johan was sitting seemed to be just the right amount of downtrodden; his courteous demeanour obviously put on for show.

The waiter's name tag said Hermann, and as he came around to top off Johan's coffee, Johan spoke up, "It must be nice being a waiter in such a beautiful city, Hermann."

"Sure, sure. It's wonderful," mumbled Hermann in thinly veiled sarcasm.

"Oh? You don't sound very convincing. What don't you like about it?"

"Doing the same thing all day, everyday. It can get boring."

"Yes, I suppose that eventually all the people would start to blend together, and start to seem rather meaningless."

"I just wish I could do something less monotonous, and with more excitement. Unfortunately I don't have of the skills for such a thing."

"Really now? I'm sure we could find your calling."

"We? Are you offering me a job or something?"

"Well, I suppose you could say I am an entrepreneur of sorts..."

_ Hermann was a rather large fellow, and he cut an imposing figure. Unfortunately, the man was fairly inept at using any kind of firearms other than a shotgun, and there enlied the limit of his usefulness. Johan had managed to gather quite a few other lackeys, but most of them would never be anything more than pistol carriers and errand boys. However, Johan knew a higher caliber of killer would reveal themself eventually.

Johan had "obtained" a medium-sized house in the country. The official owner, Rolf Zuckerman, was a terrified old man chained to a wall in the basement. The only thing keeping alive was his willingness to sign documents and pay taxes. Of course, that would change as soon as Johan found a stable source of income.

The black market in Austria was not as large as the one in Germany, but it did have some more "eclectic" options, what with the various surrounding countries. Johan was attending a business meeting of sorts, discussing the best options for extortion, blackmail, theft, and the main draw, assassination.

"I'm telling you, this Schafer fellow is the cheapest assassin around!" Spouted Adam Fischer, an arms dealer who was such an idiot it amazing that he could function in such an industry.

"Certainly, but assume that price and means do not matter. Who is the most effective?"

"Well, technically Schulte, but he's not really a traditional assassin. More like a mess maker who takes out an extra ten people just for the hell of it. And he'll take out his employer if he doesn't think he's being paid enough. Does weird shot with the bodies, too."

"And how might I find this Schulte?"

"You have to leave a bathtub full of blood out in the street, and then he shows up a mile north of it one week later."


	2. Obluda

Chapter Two: Obluda

(AN: Yes, I realize chapter two has the same title as chapter one. No, not all of the chapters will have the same name. Yes, there is a reason for this. Special Prize for anyone who can figure out what it is.)

The sun rose on a partially cloudy morning, casting a deep salmon hue all across town square. The buildings and cobblestones were a vivid pink, and the water fountain a deep red. As the morning passed, and the streets faded to stone, the water fountain never changed. At first people thought it was a prank, even the police were only expecting to file a vandalism charge. When they tested the "water" to see what kind of dye was used, they discovered that the fountain was in fact, flowing with real blood.

A mile north, one week later, a newly seeded farm field met the edge of a forest. Schulte watched the road from up in a tree. At 11:59 am a Black SUV pulled of onto the side of the road. At 12:00 a young man stepped out. Something about him was _off._ The way he carried himself was too precise, too intentional and manufactured. As he drew near to the meeting site, his face became visible. His dead expression, with its empty eyes and plastic smile, was all too familiar. Schulte had seen such a face in the mirror. With the exception of the smile, of course. Schulte had never bothered learning how to charm people; it was much easier to just stab them. Schulte jumped down from the tree.

"Please tell me you're as interesting as that blood-fountain made you out to be," Schulte bayed.

"Ah, you must be Schulte. I must admit, Fischer had described you as larger... and male," replied Johan.

"That's because Fischer is a complete fucking moron. My name is Claudia Schulte. CLAUDIA. Such a fucking moron; only reason he's alive is because he still owes me those custom rifles," Schulte griped.

"My name is Johan Liebert, nice to meet you," he said, followed by an archetypal closed-mouth smile.

"Like hell that's your actual name, and ... _interesting_ to meet you."

"Oh? Because Claudia is your real name?"

"Closest thing I've got?" Claudia supposed.

"So not at all."

"At least my facial expressions are real. I've got two: empty stare, and laughing because I just stabbed someone."

"Hmm. I suppose I enjoy the idiotic things people do out of fear just before their death," Johan mused.

"Uh huh. So is this a singular contract or more of an indefinite employment?"

"The latter I expect."

"...Right, well first and foremost I work for myself, so I have final say on what I do or don't do, period. Also, if I do something you asked and I don't get paid enough, well, I suppose you've heard. Even Fischer can't fuck up that story."

"Should I ever need to cross any of those bridges, I will tell you beforehand."

"Sooo, you got anything for upfront costs? I take payment in the form of non-counterfeit cash and spa days."

Johan tossed a bag of 130,000 Austrian schillings at Claudia's feet. She quickly snatched it up and began counting it obsessively while nodding and walking towards the SUV.


End file.
